


But, This is Your Heart

by uro_boros



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uro_boros/pseuds/uro_boros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a veneer of vapidness that Lance projects to the rest of the crew; that Keith has caught him unbound from, staring out into space on the observation deck, looking pale in the starlight, unmoored. Five weeks in close quarters means that Keith knows there’s more to him, despite his intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But, This is Your Heart

They’re on the fifth planet in as many weeks, ostensibly scoping out the force of Galra strength. The evolved species on the planet is peaceful, curious, with chittering voices and green-hued skin; they don’t have a word for Galra in their language, but they’re sympathetic. They bear very little sexual dimorphism, but that fact doesn’t stop Lance from loudly flirting with the ones they’ve marked as female.

Keith’s not quite sure why it’s frustrating or why he’s mad, except that it is, and he is. It’s something about how obnoxious it is – about how on every planet they’ve been to, despite the severity of their situation and of their mission, Lance has done exactly this. It’s more than that too, like an itch that Keith can’t scratch.

There’s a veneer of vapidness that Lance projects to the rest of the crew; that Keith has caught him unbound from, staring out into space on the observation deck, looking pale in the starlight, unmoored. Five weeks in close quarters means that Keith knows there’s more to him, despite his intentions.

Shiro gives him a look from over Allura’s shoulder before his voice crackles into Keith’s ear on a private communication line. “Need a break?” he says, friendly enough, an order disguised in a suggestion.

Keith takes it for what it really is, giving a sharp nod. He becomes aware of how his teeth are clenched, how his hands have curled into fists. 

He feels unlike himself, and he doesn’t know why, but the turning of Lance’s neck to track his departure makes it worse.

–

Out in the desert, he would spend weeks at a time alone. The closest population center was the garrison, which had a small outcropping of a town on its edges, and which he avoided after being expelled. 

Out there, he’d seen coyotes, with wounded paws, who would leave their packs to lick their wounds and die. 

Keith had felt like that at times. He’d grown up alone, and it hadn’t felt particularly monumental to be alone, but sometimes, out in the desert, he would shout, just to hear his voice echo back to him. It had given him something when there had been nothing except his own thoughts inside his head, looping around in the same circles.

The castle-ship’s walls are smooth, metallic, and cold. He presses himself against one, head hung, and counts to ten.

At ten, Keith loosens his body, straightens up, and finds Lance in front of him. It’s immediately infuriating. 

“So,” Lance says, mouth curling, “everything alright?” He stands so that his weight is shifted primarily onto one hip, casual. Keith thinks of pushing him – Lance would tumble easily and the satisfaction at the tip of his tongue from the thought of it alone makes him nearly do it.

He’s trying to be better about this, he reminds himself.

Out in the desert, he hadn’t liked being alone.

“Yes,” he answers. He looks up at Lance – Lance, who’s all awkward length and limbs, and who missed the rain.

“Kinda left in a rush.” Lance frowns. His weight shifts again.

Keith feels backed into a corner. He’s watched animals snap from less. “I didn’t think you’d notice, considering how focused you were on other things,” he bites out, going to move. 

He’s stopped by Lance’s hands on his wrists. They don’t quite form a complete ring – his hold is loose, not with the real purpose of keeping Keith in place if Keith doesn’t want to stay.

He stays. Despite the suit, he can feel the warmth of Lance’s hands.

“Are you okay?” Lance asks, sincere and well-meaning. His shoulders droop so that he sags and bends a little over Keith.

This close, his eyes are threaded with gold. He isn’t sure why he notices that. He thinks, he’ll never not notice it again.

“Keith, buddy,” Lance is saying, worried – he talks more when he’s worried; he talks too much, honestly.

Keith leans up and kisses him before he can keep talking. It’s mostly so he can hear his own thoughts, so he can be alone inside of his head because he can’t be when Lance is around, because Lance’s eyes and hands are warm, and his lips are soft.

It’s for a lot of reasons until it’s just about him wanting to kiss Lance and be kissed by him, because Lance makes a little noise and presses closer to him; Keith’s hands, in Lance's hold, are drawn up between their bodies, against Lance’s chest. Under the suit, he can feel the thrum of Lance’s heart beating. 

When he pulls away, he’s calm. Calmer than he has been in months, honestly, as Lance stares at him and licks his lips. Keith tugs at his hands – Lance, too stunned to hold them, lets him go.

He pats Lance’s arm once as he walks away. “Thanks, buddy. I feel better.”


End file.
